Sleep Walking
by princessrabe
Summary: What happens when two worlds collide?
1. Chapter 1

She looked into the older man's cold eyes angrily. "Dr. Harmon, I have to say I was completely wrong about you. You see, I thought maybe after you hung yourself from the fucking ceiling fan you'd be a little less of an asshole." She glanced down and rolled her eyes, "Obviously not."

Ben pushed her to the side, knocking her onto the bed as he walked towards the doorway. Moira giggled and spread her legs slightly as she bit her bottom lip and fluttered her dark eyelashes. "God damn it Moira! How many times have I told you to stay away from my family?" Her blue gaze turned ice cold and she pulled herself into a sitting position.

"Cut the shit, Ben. I've been spending a lot of time with your little mistress lately... god, she's a good kisser don't you agree? See, I don't buy your happy family bullshit one bit. Did you really think your little group death was going to fix the fact that you snuck around fucking a college girl?" She paused, a grin playing out across her full, red lips. "Oh maybe that's the thing... you like 'em young." Moira sighed loudly, glancing carelessly at Ben, who was in the doorway staring at her with disgust. Disgust and lust go hand in hand right? "Do you like 'em young, Ben?" She moaned, running her hands all over her body. Ben noticed her breasts popping out of the ridiculous french maid's uniform she wore on top of her black thigh highs and garter belt. Her skirt was riding up her creamy white thighs peeked out under the black lace.

"You're pathetic, Moira. Go clean the kitchen or do something useful instead of harassing me in that sadistic disgusting way you always seem to love." He spat the words at her and she felt as if she'd just been shot all over again. A grim smile formed on her delicate face and she pulled herself off the bed.

"You're a stupid son of a bitch, Dr. Harmon." She yelled as she made her way to the doorway that Ben was standing in and pushed him to the side. "I don't take orders from my own kind, and even if you weren't dead, I don't do shit for old kinky shrinks that don't appreciate me." She blew a kiss as she walked through the door.

Suddenly everything was black.


	2. Chapter 2

"If I live to see the seven wonders," Misty sang quietly to the song that played on the old 8tracks player. She rested her head on the redhead's chest and listened for her heartbeat. This girl had been dead for years and under normal circumstances she would've never even tried to bring her back.

Misty had been sleeping when she felt the tug. She'd taken to sleeping in Cordelia's bed lately; the older witch made her feel protected. It was gradual at first - her heartbeat quickened, pounding in her ears, her chest rose from the bed as if she was being pulled up by some invisible force. Then it was all at once. Everything began to spin and she covered her eyes with her thin hands, forcing herself not to look. After what felt like hours she heard voices. She uncovered her eyes and looked around frantically. She wasn't in Cordelia's bed anymore, she was in the corner of a room she didn't recognize. In front of her was a tall man and a young girl, no older than twenty. Her hair was like fire and her eyes were wide and innocent.

"No, please don't do this." The redhead begged, tears welling in her baby blue eyes. The man was obviously drunk, but it wasn't until he threw the small girl onto the bed and pinned her down that Misty knew what was happening.

"Get off o' her or I'm calling the cops!" Misty screamed, standing up from her seat in the corner. The redhead was fighting back against the man but it was evident that he was too strong for her. "Are ya fuckin' deaf mister? I said get off o' her!" The man didn't even turn around to look at her. He began to unbutton the girl's maid uniform and tears fell from her eyes.

"Please," the redhead begged, sniffling. "Please don't." Misty ran over to the bed and brought her hand down against the man's face as hard as she could. Her hand went right through his head as if he wasn't even there. She screamed and backed away from the bed, covering her face once again.

"Wake up Misty, wake up, wake up, wake up!" She screamed. This was a dream, there was no way it could be real. She heard the sound of a door flying open and she threw down her hands, staring at the woman who had just entered the room. She looked like Fiona, though something in Misty told her that this woman was not Fiona, but someone entirely different. The man got off of the maid girl and stood next to Misty. Something was very wrong here.

"Listen honey, I can explai-" Bang. His blood splattered all over Misty's white nightdress and coated her skin and hair with a sticky red layer. Misty shrieked and ducked down. Bang. The door slammed shut.

The scene changed again and Misty was in a backyard. The woman with the gun was throwing dirt to cover a hole in the middle of the yard. After a few minutes, she threw down the shovel and walked back into the house. Something inside of her knew that the maid was buried in this hole and something inside of her knew that she had to save her. Misty grabbed the shovel and begun to dig. Dirt smeared all over her bloodstained nightgown and her hands were caked with mud. After what felt like a lifetime, she reached the bottom of the hole. Carefully, she lifted the small girl out and removed the blanket that covered her. The woman had shot her through the eye and it had exited through the back of her skull. What sort of cruel, horrible person could kill one of god's innocent creatures? Misty placed her fingertips over the redhead's heart and closed her eyes.

When she opened them she was back in Cordelia's bed. Could it really have just been a dream? She should probably tell Cordelia about it in the morning... maybe it meant something. Misty brought her hand to her face and brushed away a strand of hair from her eyes. It was only then that she noticed all of the blood. "Oh fuck." Misty whispered, her eyes widening in terror. She jumped out of bed and found the maid on the floor next to her. She tried to pick her up, but the strength she'd had before had left her completely. She dragged the girl into the greenhouse and somehow lifted her onto the table that sat in the middle of the room. "What the hell is goin on?" Misty asked herself. She tended to talk to herself when she was under a lot of stress. "Calm down, Misty Day." She whispered, turning on the 8tracks player that sat on the edge of the table. She checked the girl's heartbeat - admittedly unnecessary as she'd seen the girl die and be buried, but always a good thing to check. No heartbeat. She leaned in and breathed into her mouth slowly, forcing her life into the woman on the table. The woman coughed and her undamaged eye fluttered open. Misty stepped back, shocked. She hadn't had much faith in bringing her back to life, as it appeared she'd been dead for at least a year. She sat up slowly, her maid uniform slipping down her shoulder. She brought one red manicured hand to her forehead and pouted. "I have a headache." Misty ran over to the 8tracks player and turned it down quickly. "No, wait!" Her voice was soft like silk but raspy like she'd just woken up. That was one way of thinking of it, Misty supposed.

"Yeah?" Misty asked, half whispering.

"Who was that? Sounds like Fleetwood Mac." A grin spread across the maid's features. Misty's blue eyes widened and she smiled.

"It is Fleetwood Mac," she laughed. The maid frowned.

"I don't know it... well I guess I don't know much from '83 onward." She sighed, "Everyone in this house has shitty taste in music."

"Oh gosh, you haven't heard Mirage yet... or... oh my... Stevie just put out a movie... she's got a new album." Misty paced back and forth across the small greenhouse nervously. "Christine McVie left the band."

"What the fuck? But Fleetwood Mac... it's Fleetwood Mac-VIE it's her band what the fuck?" The maid put her hand to her head again and brought it away, grimacing. "Why am I bleeding?"

"Some woman shot you," Misty sighed, "I tried t' stop her."

"Oh that's Constance Langdon, my employer." She shook her head, "I mean I was all healed up after I died..." She gasped, her eyes darting back and forth across the room. "Where are we?"

Misty smiled sheepishly, "Well... er, welcome to Miss Robichaux's Academy For Exceptional Young Ladies."

"Oh my god." She gasped. "What's your name?"

"I'm Misty, what's your name?"

"Moira O'Hara." Her smile widened and Misty blushed. "Misty, you saved me... you got me out." She swung her porcelain legs over the side of the table and brought her delicate hands to Misty's face. She leaned in and kissed the blonde sweetly, smiling as she pulled away.

"What do ya mean I got you out?" Misty asked, covering the smile that was playing out across her lips.

"You must've found my body at the house in the backyard. When you die in that house, your spirit lingers there forever... I don't know how to explain it." She looked at the ground, fighting the tears that prickled her eyes. She wondered if she could still cry even though Constance shot her eye out... She'd never really had the opportunity to. "How did you do it? How did you bring me back?"

Cordelia had warned her about telling people she was a witch. There were people, she said, that wanted them dead. If anybody knew what she was, they'd be able to hurt the entire coven. She wasn't afraid of Moira, though. Not in that way, at least. "I'm a witch; I have... the power of resurgence. It's got a pretty ring to it right? I can bring folks who have passed on back to th' living world. Sometimes spirits call out to me - show me that they need my help and I come t' them. Your spirit pulled me back, made me watch y'all die and then took me to your body... it's never happened before."

Moira smiled, "I guess I'm special."

"Are you afraid?"

"Misty, I've seen death, I've seen life and everything in-between. I've seen horror like you will never understand. I'm not afraid of anything anymore." She smiled, "Least of all a pretty blonde with a pointy hat."

"I can be scary." Misty breathed, "If you want me to be."

Moira laughed, "So can I." She ran her fingers through her fiery hair and smirked. "So, little witch, can you fix my eye?"

Myrtle had fixed Cordelia's eyes, so she supposed there had to be a way. Misty had never been really good at anything but resurgence, but she was a healer like Cordelia, so maybe she could do it. "I can try." She sighed. "Close your eyes, Moira."

She concentrated all of her thought onto the redhead's eyes, the cold blue, the way they seemed to ripple like waves in the ocean, icy and mesmerizing, dangerous. "Do you know what Moira means in greek?" Misty asked.

"Hmm?" Moira moaned lightly, "I don't."

"It means a portion of th' whole. Your portion in life... your destiny, I mean. The three Moira's were goddesses, or demons dependin' on your opinion of 'em. They chose when you live and when you die."

"I've never been one for big decisions."

"We're all blinded by our doubts, Moira. Sometimes y' just gotta open your eyes and see things for what you can make them."

Moira felt Misty rub the blood from her face using a warm cloth. "Do you live here, Misty? Are there others like you?"

"They're the same species as me, yes, but I'm still lookin' for my tribe."

"I hope you find it someday."

"I think I'm getting close," Misty smiled. "Open your eyes."

Moira's blue eyes fluttered open and she grinned. "How do I look?"

Misty's breathing was heavy, the spell had taken everything out of her. "Beautiful."


	3. Chapter 3

"What now?" Moira asked, her voice dry.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't suppose your little academy needs a maid?"

"Come with me."

Moira hopped off of the table onto the cold ground. When you're a ghost you can't feel cold or warm or pain. In the months following her death Moira had tried everything to feel again. She'd slit her wrists and watch as the wounds disappeared as quickly as they'd formed. She'd tried sex... over and over again. She may not have had a real body but she still had a soul; a soul that burned like the flames of hell every second that she spent undressed in a strangers bed. Every action hung over her like black clouds and for those few minutes she knew what it was like to be human again. How pain shocked through every fibre of your body and ripped you apart from the inside out. And then it was over and she was still numb, and she was still dead, and she was still trapped.

As her feet touched the concrete she felt it. With every ounce of her being she felt it. She smiled and dragged her fingertips over the exposed skin of Misty's collarbones and neck. She was warm and soft and alive and she felt like heaven. She walked with Misty out of the greenhouse and into the night. She brought her through the doors of the Academy. If there was any place in the world to be home to a coven of witches it would be this place, Moira thought. They walked through the house to Cordelia's room in silence.

"Wait here." Misty whispered as she walked into the dark room. Moira sat in the doorway examining her immaculate manicure. She wondered if she'd age now that she was technically alive. That would be such a drag. Misty approached the sleeping witch carefully, trying not to scare her. "Cordelia." She whispered, tapping her shoulder gently.

Cordelia rolled over, her eyes still half closed. "Misty," she sighed. "It's the middle of the night, can this wait?"

Misty smiled awkwardly, "No, not really, it can't..."

"Well then what is it?"

"I was just wondering, 'cause you know the girls killed Spalding and-"

"Oh god, don't remind me." Cordelia sighed.

"And Marie Laveau chopped off your other maid's head, I was just thinkin' maybe it's time to restaff?"

"At god knows what o'clock in the morning? Misty... go to sleep." Cordelia rolled back onto her side and covered her face with a pillow.

"Oh, Cordelia just hear me out?"

"Go to sleep." She moaned into the pillow.

"Moira can you come over here?" Misty called over to the doorway where the redhead was standing. Moira walked over to Misty and smoothed out her clothes somewhat professionally.

Cordelia shot up and flipped on the light switch by the bed, shocking the two girls.

"Jesus Christ." Moira shouted, blinking at the light. Cordelia stared at her almost in disbelief.

"Miss Cordelia, I'd like you to meet Moira O'hara." Misty gestured towards Moira. "Moira, this is Cordelia Foxx. She's the daughter of our Supreme witch, Fiona and she's the headmistress of this Academy."

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Foxx" Moira held her hand out to Cordelia politely but her voice was hard. She was just like Constance Langdon. Something in her eyes showed she was struggling.

"It's nice to meet you too, Moira." Cordelia shook her hand.

The electricity shook through her body and the images played like a movie in her mind. Moira was sitting on a bed with white lace sheets, stained red with blood. The blood was in her hair and smeared across her face and on her hands. She had a gun in her right hand pressed against her head. Her red lips opened and her blue eyes pierced into Cordelia's soul.

"You can't run from what's inside you." The girl whispered. She pulled the trigger and the images were gone.

Cordelia's gift of sight was gone, and somehow she knew that what she'd just seen wasn't a memory. It didn't make sense... any of it. What was inside Cordelia that she needed to run from? Did this girl know something about her that she herself didn't know? Cordelia pulled her hand away from Moira's and breathed deeply. Whatever had just happened was unexplainable, and though it was clear that this girl wasn't a witch, she radiated power like the coven had never seen before. War was coming and Cordelia couldn't risk having any more enemies.

"Our staff has definitely declined recently and since we don't have any other options as of yet, you can start work in the morning." Cordelia forced a smile. "Misty, could you show Moira to Delphine's old room?"

"Sure thing." Misty grinned.

"Oh, and Moira?" Cordelia called after them. "Don't think I'm not going to be talking to you about what you just did."


	4. Chapter 4

"Here's Delphine's old room, it's not the biggest but better than sleepin' up in Spalding's. That place gives me the creeps and I've only been here for a bit." Misty fiddled with the strings on her maroon high low dress. She didn't like wearing revealing clothing, and the hem of the chiffon skirt rose a bit higher than she'd been comfortable with when Fiona threw it on her. Apparently it was hers when she was in the Academy, which made sense seeing as Fiona was never one for playing it safe in any aspect of her life.

"Thank you, Misty." Moira looked deep into the blonde's eyes. "I really mean that... thank you for everything."

Misty smiled and pushed her hair out of her face awkwardly. "It's no problem, I barely did nothin'. I'm bout to put in a load of laundry, can I put your dress in?"

"Yeah, unzip me?" Moira hugged her arms to her chest and turned her back to Misty. Misty pulled the zipper down carefully, trying to avoid touching the pale girl's skin.

Bass-heavy music played loudly from Madison's room which was a few doors down. "I hate Madison's music," Misty sighed.

"I don't know," Moira shrugged, "I kinda dig it." She moved Misty's hands which were shaking slightly at the zipper on the back of her dress to her hips and swayed to the beat, grinding on Misty lightly as she laughed. She hummed along to the song and twirled to face the blonde. She moved her hips side to side, closing her eyes and letting all of her problems fly away.

It was obvious Moira's problems weren't over; the real ones or the ones in her head. What she'd shown to Cordelia... she didn't know how or why it happened. She felt the sparks fly from her hands into the woman's body and it was like she'd sliced her wrist and these thoughts just kept pouring out like blood.

Moira ground her hips into Misty faster and harder and she threw her head back, letting her amber hair fall out of its pin curls. Her permanent sultry pout disappeared and was replaced with a wide smile as she wrapped her thin arms around Misty's shoulders. "God, I'm sorry it's just so weird to be alive again."

Misty laughed and looked up at the white ceiling. "I guess I wasn't really dead long enough to know what alive feels like."

"It's like being numb for ages, and then you just wake up and you can feel again. I'm having a bit of a hard time getting used to it." Moira blushed and untangled her fingers from where she'd put them in Misty's curls. "Oh right, unzip. I think I can take it from here." Moira reached to the back of her dress and pulled the zipper down the rest of the way before sliding the thin material off of one of her shoulders, exposing the corner of her black lace bra.

"I'll go find you somethin' to wear." Misty walked out of the small room and down the hall to her own room. She borrowed clothes from Cordelia mostly but sometimes Fiona or Madison would lend her something to wear. Madison liked to say she was saving Misty from Zoe's Gap clothes and Cordelia's pantsuits. Queenie gave her a few of her old t-shirts to sleep in, and she grabbed one out of her closet for Moira. She walked back down the hallway admiring the way her chiffon dress billowed out behind her and the way Madison's ridiculous stilettos made her legs look miles long. She pulled the heels off of her feet and set them down by the wall as she entered the room. Moira sat on the bed, her porcelain arms covering her chest, her regular cold gaze on her face as she stared out the window.

"This might be a bit big but it's actually real comfortable." Misty threw the shirt on the redhead and she pulled it over her small frame quickly.

"I like your accent." Moira was still staring out the window, her hands folded in her lap. It was hard for Misty to tell if she was being sarcastic or honest.

"I... er... well thank you."

"I had this boyfriend when I was in high school and his accent was like yours." She laughed and fiddled with her hands in her lap. "I guess you remind me of home." That was it, Moira thought. It was weird associating the blonde with her home and childhood, but something about Misty made her feel safe and warm.

"I've never really had one of those." Misty sighed.

"What?" Moira raised her eyebrows. "A boyfriend? How the fu-"

Misty interrupted her quickly, "No, a home I mean... I've never had one."

Moira's mouth opened slightly but no words would come out. This little girl had never been loved or had anyone care weather she lived or died. Moira wondered how she could live in a world all alone like that her whole life. She'd never felt such sadness for another person. She smiled slightly and grabbed Misty's hand with her own. "When you build your house, call me home," She sang softly, her smile growing as she watched Misty's blue eyes seem to melt like a frozen pond in February.

"All I ever wanted was to know that you were dreaming." Misty giggled and sniffed back the tears that were forming in her eyes.

"Oh honey, don't cry. Nobody can hurt you here. I'm here okay? Nobody's gonna hurt you ever again." Moira squeezed her hand and wiped the tears from underneath her baby blue eyes. She remembered doing the same thing for Tate Langdon when he was only a child. Constance never showed him any affection and he was scared and alone so Moira would hold his hand and wipe away his tears and tell him that the monsters under his bed couldn't hurt him because she was there and they were way too scared of her to come near them. She'd kneel down on the carpet and look under the bed and have pretend conversations with the monsters to make Tate laugh. One of Moira's biggest regrets was not being strong enough to save Tate from the real monsters in the world. She couldn't let anything happen to Misty. Misty was her baby Tate and nobody could hurt her.

"Fuck, Misty you're freezing." Moira ran her hand up the girl's arm and pulled the blankets off of the bed. "Get in, you're going to catch a cold."

Misty climbed into the bed next to Moira and sighed, wiping the remnants of her tears off of her face. "You are such a nanny type."

"God, no. Me and children are not a good mix." She shuddered at the thought. She'd always liked children, but it scared her how easily they could be corrupted. Moira was passive aggressive and tended to have a split personality - she could never justify her need to be a mother when there was a risk that she'd destroy a human being... turn it into someone like her. She'd never intended to take that risk with Tate. His father tried to rape her and his mother shot and buried her in the backyard. Tate had evil running through his veins, but somehow she thought that she of all people could protect him. Obviously she was wrong.

"I can see it in your eyes you think way more than y' should." Misty sighed.

"What do you mean by that?" Moira asked, turning to face Misty.

"Your brain's goin' a million miles an hour. Just let it all go."

Moira closed her eyes and rested her head on the pillow next to Misty. "Goodnight Misty." She whispered.

"Goodnight Moira." Misty sighed, interlocking her fingers in Moira's, before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.


End file.
